Chapter 19 is out!
1. This one took longer to be posted because I discovered the masterpiece of a game that Hollow Knight is; and I had to grind the hell out of it to complete it at 100%. The good part is that its incredible ost definitely gave me some very cool ideas for the story!
2. This chapter has a slower pace, as you will find out soon; that is because side characters also need to develop their arcs and personalities, and that ain't possible without some good and old-fashioned drama!
Hope you all enjoy!
Scala ad Caelum
Chapter 19: Pureblood Dilemmas
Draco Malfoy POV
Tuesday 6th November, 1992 (Slytherin Common room, Hogwarts) – After dinner
Draco had always been praised because of his social skills. It was one of the very first things his lord father taught him, and the boy was quick to learn them. Bad blood and disputes were very common things in the pureblood society, so everyone knew how to socialize and deal with the not so friendly people; what very few understood was the importance of controlling and knowing your friends; that was the most important thing, much more than doing it with your so-called enemies.
Despite that, it didn't matter how good someone could be with their social skills, not when the one person to understand was Theodore Nott himself. "Draco, are you the Heir of Slytherin?" The boy asked; just like that, no greetings or even a simple introduction to start the conversation; the heir of the House of Nott didn't understand, or cared, about such things.
"Ehm... what?" Draco managed to answer.
The question made Pansy stop writing her essay, and now the girl was eyeing them with renowned interest. "I asked you if you were the Heir everyone is talking about?" Nott repeated. "It is quite simple to understand, if you ask me."
"I'm not the Heir of Slytherin, Theo," Draco answered.
"But there is an Heir out there, right?" Pansy joined the conversation.
"That is what the myth says," the blond answered. "There will be one day in which the Heir appears to take back what belonged to the wizards in the past, what had been stolen by non magical people; that is the story my father told me about the Chamber of Secrets when I was a kid."
"I see; it sounds like a good story," Nott said.
"Why did you ask that?"
"Nothing in particular; people haven't talked about any other topic in the last week, and some of the older students from Slytherin are starting to place bets on both who the Heir is going to be, and when he is going to reveal his presence. Potter is first on the list, but you are the close second."
"Potter? Those morons have Potter as the Heir of Slytherin? What the heck are they thinking?"
"Well, it isn't so hard to understand," Nott explained. "They believe it is him because he was at the crime scene before anyone; besides, it is rumoured that he had a very recent problem with Filch; you heard how that stupid caretaker blamed him on the spot. Whatever, that was all I wanted to know; gotta finish my Charms essay, so see you two around!"
Why is it always Potter the one to get the entire spotlight? The blond mentally cursed. He is a mediocre wizard at best... even the blood-traitor of Weasley and the mudblood of Granger are better than him... and yet, he always gets what he wants… being a seeker in his first year; almost winning the House Cup in the last moment with a stellar intervention; people talking about him all the time...
"What are you thinking, Draco?" Pansy asked, sending the boy one of those fake looks she always used with the male heirs of notable families.
"Nothing of your incumbency," Draco grunted back. There were very few things that irked him more than Potter and his little gang of peasants getting praise and recognition. Why is this happening? Last year, I was a complete failure; I destroyed my fame and prestige with a few actions back in the first days of the year; but I started to act as Malfoy should, and I even managed to place as the third best student. But nothing is enough!
Pansy Parkinson had always been a girl who knew how to take insults and disrespect, and everyone from their former group knew that. She needed to fall on good graces with the heir of a powerful House, after all; the fact of Malfoy being one of the seventy Great Houses which formed the Ancient Council turned the blond boy into the perfect objective for her; and Draco had always known that, as well as he had used it.
But for the first time in their lives, Pansy snapped back. "Okay, I get it; it's not something a Parkinson like me could ever understand, eh?" The girl tried to put an innocent smile on her face; but it came off as a very malicious one. "Poor Draco, who can't stop others from stepping on his fame... First, it was Weasley; then, the mudblood of Granger; oh wait, didn't you get cursed in the face by Neville Longbottom last month? And I'm not even talking about Potter, but it isn't as if I need to, right? After all, he is the golden boy of Gryffindor, while you are the brat who almost cost Slytherin the House Cup... Poor Draco, who can't live up to his name."
Pansy certainly knew where to hurt; she had always prided herself on that, but never had it been aimed at the blond, who was left completely speechless. "What would a Parkinson like me know?" She went on. "I've always tried to allure powerful heirs, everyone knows that; but why should I keep going after you? What have you proven to make me follow you like a lost puppy? You are nothing but a pretty face and a powerful name; and that can take you only so far, Draco; don't ever forget that."
No words came out from his mouth to stop her retreating form; not even to insult her. He was completely speechless. What the hell is happening with my life? Since I came to this school nothing is going well for me... Now, even Pansy freaking Parkinson turns her back on me... she's gonna pay for that disrespect... how dare she... But even if he tried to fool himself, there were other thoughts wandering his mind. But, what are you going to do, Draco? You've done a shit since the last year; first, the group broke apart and left you for a fucking poor, blood-traitor; the older students don't respect you; your godfather had to chastise you; and father... father was extremely disappointed with you...
Never in his life had Draco thought how heavy the name of Malfoy was; until this recent summer, that's it. The boy could still remember with great detail the look his father had sent him when hearing from Severus the news about his academic results. "You finished as the third best," Lucius plainly said. "After a mudblood and a half-blood, no less. And your godfather had to scold you before you could disgrace the name of Malfoy even more... that is pathetic... not something I was expecting from my son and heir."
Those words stung; it had been the very first time he had been scolded like that by father; but the summer was going to be a long one, and he didn't know it yet. "I've just heard from Lady Zabini that your group of friends finally broke apart this year," his mother told him, two weeks after coming home from Hogwarts. "The fact those lowborn fools of Zabini and Davies left you is insignificant, but Daphne Greengrass was important; what I'm most ashamed of, is the fact they left you for a Weasley... Draco, the blood of the Great House of Malfoy and the Great House of Black runs through your veins, don't ever disappoint us like that again..."
Was his name so heavy that even he, Draco Malfoy, the perfect heir, couldn't live up to it? Since they all were toddlers, Draco had been the boy to go in all the groups, and only the rare presence of other heirs like Alexander Shawn or Marcel Larsson could change that; but now, there he was, the leader of a group which had people like Millcent Bulstrode or Vincent Crabbe as the seconds.
How pathetic...
In fact, it was now that strange things were happening at the castle, when the boy remembered something that occurred this past summer. Just after coming back from magical London, the day in which his father fought with the scum of Arthur Weasley, he had been livid; way more than any other time Draco had ever seen him. "That scum of Weasley thinks he can threaten me with his stupid raids?" Lucius coldly growled. "Oh, let me have the last laugh, you poor bastard; let's see if you are so brave by the end of this year..."
Even though the blond boy asked his father about it, he didn't even answer him; he just kept muttering about how things were going to be very good at Hogwarts this year. Can it be related to this whole Chamber of Secrets thing? But, if father knew how to open it, wouldn't that make us the Heirs of Slytherin? Wouldn't that make me the Heir? What can I do to regain my prestige? What can I do to become the man I was born to be? Why didn't he tell me about whatever he planned? Is it because I'm not trustworthy enough? Or maybe, it is because he is afraid of me ruining his plans?
There were many questions on the boy's mind; just as there were different emotions. Mainly, his pride was hurt because of how easily Pansy had snapped at him; but he was also proud of his lineage because of the possible connection between Salazar Slytherin and him.
"You are nothing but a pretty face and a powerful name, Draco," the boy didn't know why, but Parkinson's words instantly came to his mind. Could that have been my mistake? Is that the reason why all the people have stepped on me since the first day here? Who the hell is going to care about that connection between Slytherin and me if they don't even respect me in the first place? My name could only take me here, to failure; maybe it is time for me to start forging my own name... I need to stop being Draco, the heir of the Great House of Malfoy; I need to become Draco Malfoy, the heir who won his power and prestige…
Harry Potter POV
Saturday 8th November, 1992 (Hogwarts) – Middle of the morning
It was payback time.
The Quidditch season was officially starting today, and as it could only be, the first game of the year had to be Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Nothing mattered more than the game right now, just as the faces of his teammates showed, minutes before the match started; even the twins were more pumped than ever.
It seemed like no one had forgotten about that day when Hermione was insulted like she was; the day when Neville took a curse to the face for defending her friend.
There was a great expectation for the game, especially because this year, the race for the House Cup was incredibly tight; only Hufflepuff being a bit far from it. Just as it happened last year, the first years had been one of the key factors to earn a lot of points; in the past, it had been a race between Ron and Hermione to see who could get more points in the classes; but this year so far, it was Ginny Weasley, much to the boy's surprise, who was leading them to victory.
Despite all of that, nothing but Quidditch mattered; not even the cauldron of Polyjuice Potion which they had already started to brew in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom; and the stands seemed to share his opinion, because all the seats were occupied; with the lion's section already chanting for their team.
The two teams stood in the middle of the field, the players facing each one's respective rivals, as the two captains exchanged the House's banners, just like rules indicated. Malfoy held his gaze, but much to Harry's surprise, the blond boy looked a bit different today; he couldn't exactly point out what was wrong, but something in his eyes was strange. "I'm going to destroy you, Potter, and show the school who is the best seeker," he announced.
"Ehm, what?" Harry managed to answer; he definitely wasn't expecting those words coming from Malfoy's mouth; no insults, no sneering, no disdain in his eyes... That had been a cold statement; but the Gryffindor didn't really care about it; up in the air, no threat mattered; it was his domain.
"Everyone ready to take off at my signal!" Madam Hooch exclaimed. "I want a fair game! Give the spectators an amazing spectacle!"
As soon as they heard the whistle, fourteen brooms rose to the air; the freshly acquired Nimbus 2001 from the snakesmaking it way quicker than the lions. They have the better brooms, we have the better players; they gotta reach our level with dirty methods, but let them come; we'll show them why Gryffindor should have won the Cup last year...
As much as the boy believed in those words, the difference in brooms was far too great; that, and the fact Slytherin has always been the second best team in the school, made things incredibly difficult. After seven minutes of game, the snakes had already scored five goals, while the lions only had two. I need to find the snitch faster than ever, otherwise, they are gonna wipe the floor with us...
"Harry, look out!" George exclaimed at him, and that meant a bludger was coming. The young seeker moved out of the way with ease, even though the black ball was faster than usual. Damn, who the hell batted that one? It flew towards Fred, who sent it to Pucey, one of Slytherin chasers; but the bludger ignored him and suddenly changed directions towards Harry once again.
"What the hell is going on," the boy muttered, as he flew away from the ball.
It didn't matter how many times the twins hit the bludger, it's only target seemed to be the seeker; it even ignored Angelina when she tried to catch its attention. If that wasn't enough, the weather was also playing against them, the rain splattering some heavy drops onto his glasses. "Slytherin is in the lead! Eighty points to twenty! Honestly, those brooms shouldn't be allowed!" Lee Jordan narrated, his voice coming out from far away.
"Focus on the snitch, Harry!" Fred exclaimed, as he and his brother flew around the seeker; their figures barely visible thanks to the rain and wind.
"Yeah, we'll try to protect you from that bloody thing!" George agreed. "Someone must have cursed it! Bloody snakes and their dirty tricks!"
A loud whistle suddenly resounded in the field; someone had called a time out.
Harry dropped to the ground, just as the bludgers ceased their activity. "What the hell are you doing, Fred and George?" Wood cursed, as soon as the whole team gathered around him. "They are stomping us! The bludgers are destroying us every time we are close to score!"
"The bludger, you mean," Fred grunted back. "We were above you! Trying to protect Harry from a cursed bludger which only goes after him!"
"That is impossible..." Alicia muttered. "The balls are locked in Madam Hooch's office until the game starts..."
"Listen to me, guys," Harry started. "Fred, George, you two leave me alone and play as if it was a normal game; I can handle myself, and if you two stick around, I won't ever catch the snitch."
Everyone protested against his plan, but Wood looked at him with sheer determination. "You've heard our seeker," he announced, as the time out was about to end. "Trust in him, just as he trusts in is to keep the game winnable."
The rain was falling even heavier now; but that was nothing to worry about, not when there was a cursed bludger coming at him from every direction. Harry saw Malfoy flying past him a few times, his eyes completely set on the field, looking for any sign of the golden ball; but unfortunately for him, it was impossible to look around closely when the blond was so focused on the entire place; that was called tunnel vision, and it was one of the gravest mistakes a seeker could commit.
The snitch had just appeared; and it was centimetres above Malfoy's head.
Two seconds of distraction; that was all the time the bludger needed to hit him in the arm; maybe it was the pain, or maybe it was the crunch, but Harry knew his arm had been broken at the elbow's height. "You guys want to pay them back? Humiliate the fuck out of them in a Quidditch game, then," those were the words from that sixth year prefect from Slytherin, back during their first fight of the year, two months ago. Why the hell am I thinking about this right now? But... that git was right... this is the perfect chance for payback... I have to show the whole school that it doesn't matter how good your brooms can be... the Gryffindor team will always prevail!
That gave him the strength to not only remain atop of the broom, but to launch himself towards Malfoy, who was now looking at him with a weird expression. "What the hell are you thinking, Pott-" he hadn't realised the snitch was flying above his head; in fact, the only thing the blond boy saw was the bludger which was following Harry.
Malfoy got out of the way, still thinking Harry's plan was to use him as a decoy for the bludger; the Gryffindor boy would have loved to see his face the moment the blond realised he had caught the snitch; but right now, the only thing he could worry about was the fact he was freefalling to the ground.
It hurt, maybe not as much as his arm did, but it had been a few metres of fall.
For a moment, he felt and saw nothing; but then, a familiar set of white, gleaming teeth made him come around. "Not you, please," he begged.
"He clearly doesn't know what he's saying," Lockhart smiled to his teammates. "Don't worry, my dear students; his arm is broken, but that is nothing for me. Just wait a few seconds and dear Harry will be in the air as if nothing had happened!"
Harry heard the familiar sound of Collin's camera, and before Lockhart could sit him up, the boy appreciated how the twins were still fighting to lock the bludger on its vault. "Please, sto-" Harry tried to say, but it was too late for that; the idiot who called himself a Professor was already twisting his wand in the air.
What the hell has he done to my arm? Harry hadn't looked yet, but a lot of people gasped around him; and that made him shiver. "Ah, yes; you see, that happens from time to time. I mean, the bones aren't broken anymore, so I'd say I did a pretty good job with that."
Angelina and Alicia helped him to get up. "I don't think you should look at your arm, Harry," Angelina told him, trying to smile as reassuringly as she could. "Why don't you let Alicia and me to guide you to the medical wing? Madam Pomfrey will fix you up in no time!"
But that was the worst thing you could ever say to a person; especially, if it was their own arm the thing they shouldn't look at. Harry looked at his arm; he felt his whole face going pale, and he almost fainted once again.
"Yeah, you should have listened to me," Angelina grimaced. "That fool just removed your bones..."
To say that Madam Pomfrey didn't take it so well was to put it short; but that didn't stop her from tending him; just as it didn't stop her from insulting Lockhart every single instant the nurse could. "I can certainly grow your bones back, but it is going to hurt," the medi-witch grunted.
That was also putting it short.
It was one of the worst pains the boy had ever felt; and he had plenty of them to compare with. At least, he went to bed with some happy memories; his team coming to congratulate him after Madam Pomfrey allowed them in; the gleam of admiration in Wood's eyes; and trying to imagine the face of Malfoy when the boy realised he had lost...
When Harry woke up, at first, he blamed the incredible pain on his arm; but that wasn't everything. "What the hell?" Harry cursed, as he pushed out whoever was sponging his forehead. "Who are y- Wait, Dobby?" The elf had decided to visit him once again. Oh no, please, this day already had many bad things, I think it is time to stop... but wait, If Dobby is here... I can ask him some important things we need to know.
The elf creepily ogled him from the shadows. "Harry Potter came back to the school," he barely whispered. "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter to not come here! Oh, sir, why didn't you hear Dobby?"
Harry tried to push himself up as best as he could, but that only increased the pain on his arm. "So, it was you the reason why I couldn't get into the station, eh?" Harry coldly said.
"Harry Potter is very wise... he already knows..."
"Don't come at me with that! Why are you trying to ruin my life so damn hard?"
"Ruin Harry Potter's life?" The elf asked, as if he had said the most horrendous thing ever. "Dobby would never do that! It was all to protect you!"
"From what?" Harry asked.
The elf did nothing for a second, and then, he started to hit his own head against the wall. "What the hell?" Harry exclaimed. "Dobby, you need to stop! Madam Pomfrey is going to hear you!" But the elf didn't stop for an instant; thankfully for him, the boy had his wand at his hand's reach, on the nightstand. "Petrificus Totalus!" He chanted; but much to his surprise, before the spell could hit him, Dobby moved out of the way, as fast as lighting, just to appear on the feet of his bed.
"Harry Potter tried to curse Dobby!" He lamented. "This is what Dobby deserves! Curse me as much as you want, sir!"
"Please, stop," Harry practically begged. "Listen to me, Dobby; all I want is to talk a bit; can you do that for me?"
"That is not an order, but if Harry Potter asks something from me... I won't ever refuse!"
What the hell is wrong with this creature? It had been a close call, but it seemed that Madam Pomfrey didn't know there were unwanted visitors at the medical wing. "Dobby, from what are you trying to protect me?" The boy asked. "Please, I need you to tell me... it has something to do with the Chamber of Secrets?"
The elf's fist made his way towards his own head, but this time Dobby was at Harry's reach, so the boy could stop him in time. "I can't say..." he cried. "But Harry Potter needs to get out of the school right now; it is too dangerous for him! But he is brave... so brave and powerful... he even was too much for my bludger..."
"Wait a moment here... your bludger?" Harry slowly asked. "What the hell do you mean with that? Were you trying to kill me or something? Because that is what almost happened!"
"Not kill you, sir; Dobby would never do that! Dobby just wanted to save Harry Potter's life! It is much better to have a few broken bones than losing your life!"
"So, losing my life, eh?" Harry muttered.
"Dobby won't ever allow that to happen! Harry Potter has no idea of what he means to us, to the lowly and enslaved! When He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers many, many wizards treated us like vermin! Dobby is still treated like that, of course, but Dobby talks with other elves and creatures... they have a much better life... and for that, I won't ever let anyone harm you, sir!"
It was a long ramble, one coated with many tears, but the elf wasn't finished. "That is why Dobby has been trying to keep you safe and far from the school! History cannot be repeated! The Chamber of Secrets has been opened once again, but that doesn't mean-"
It was too late for him, and too soon for Harry, but the elf had realised his mistake; in fact, he already was on his way to hit himself once again, but he stopped the instant before his head impacted with the wall. "Dobby needs to go now," he gasped. "People are coming!"
He disappeared, and five seconds after it, the medical wing's door was open; but Harry was already pretending to be asleep. "Get Pomfrey right now," the Headmaster's voice resounded all over the place, as another person left the room. Meanwhile, Dumbledore placed something, or someone, on the bed which was next to Harry's.
After a few seconds, the medi-witch rushed into the infirmary. "What happened?" She managed to ask, between ragged breaths.
"Another attack, this time Minerva found him on the stairs."
"There were a bunch of grapes next to his body," Professor McGonagall explained. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter... he has always idolized him."
A dreadful silence came with that; one powerful enough for Harry to hear how his heart accelerated as it had never done before. "Another petrifaction..." Madam Pomfrey muttered. "What is happening in the castle, Albus?"
"I don't know," the Headmaster sighed, very tiredly. "An attack on the caretaker's cat is one thing... but an attack on a student... That being said, whoever the responsible is, he used the same magic in both attacks; and it really hurts me to say this, but I still don't have any idea about what kind of magic this is."
"But, they both were petrified, so we can revert it as soon as the Mandrakes are grown," Madam Pomfrey said, trying to bring a bit of hope in the conversation. "I have yet to examine the boy's body, and I might even need to ask for help from some colleague of mine, someone who is more specialized in this kind of attack... I think this could work, Albus."
"You have the authority to act as you please, Poppy," the Headmaster told her. "If you say so, then I will trust your judgement. Meanwhile, it is my job to prevent other attacks from happening. I'll tell the prefects to carry out their patrols with more seriousness, just as the Professors, me included, will start to patrol the castle during nights; so far, it seems the responsible prefers that time zone to commit his attacks."
"Albus, Poppy, look at this," Professor McGonagall piped in. "Mr Creevey had his camera in his hands; do you think he could have taken a photograph of the attacker?"
"Let's see," the Headmaster said; some seconds after that, a jet of steam hissed out of the camera. "It's melted."
"What does this mean?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened once again; but this time, things seem to be quite different; and I don't know if it is for the better or for the worse..."
The three adults left the place without any more words; when Harry heard the door closing, he got up from the bed as best as he could. He knew what he was going to find next to him, but he needed to check it. The first attack had been something very shady and hard to see, but this one almost made him faint.
There he lied, completely petrified; Colin Creevey had been the new victim of the Heir.
Ronald Weasley POV
Sunday 9th November, 1992 (Hogwarts) – Middle of the morning
The Heir had struck once again; but this time, it was a student the victim of the attack. Colin Creevey, a first year student from Gryffindor, had been petrified.
As soon as the gossip started to spread, there had been plenty of different reactions, even within Slytherin; some students stopped joking about it since an attack on a student wasn't the same as a cat being petrified; but there were others who didn't care at all, especially since they believed themselves to be completely safe thanks to their blood status.
Ron and his friends were already on the move, with even more determination after the recent attack. Since Nott hadn't answered him, the redhead had given up on his plan; that was why he found himself at Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on a Sunday morning. "So the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before," Hermione muttered, deeply lost in her thoughts. "At least, that is what the elf told Harry the past night."
"That supports the theory of it being a secret which has been passed down generations," Neville commented.
"It doesn't really have to be like that. What worries me the most right now, is what kind of monster is after the attacks; I mean, so far it has only been petrifactions... but is it because the monster can only do that, or is it because the Heir ordered it to do so? It doesn't make any sense... the Heir is supposed to purge the castle from the 'unworthy'..."
Maybe... Nott could be right in the end. What if the Heir doesn't have the guts, or doesn't want, to kill the muggleborns? The weedy boy's words came to the redhead's mind, but there simply were too many possibilities. There are some guys in Slytherin who wouldn't have any problem with shedding blood, but not as many as the other Houses believe... On the other hand, there are a lot of bigots who don't want to share space with those whose blood lacks 'purity'... and those bastards might not have any problems with petrifying a hundred students to fulfil their objectives.
"We really know a shit, so we better finish this potion before it's too late," Ron ended up saying.
"Trust me, if it was so easy, we would already be drinking it," Hermione replied. "Sorry about that, I'm just..., overwhelmed by this whole situation."
"Don't worry, we get it. I and Neville are safe because of our blood, but we need to stop the Heir before more muggle-borns get attacked."
The three of them fell into a comfortable silence, which was only disrupted by Harry's arrival from the medical wing. "Hey, how are you, mate?" The redhead asked him.
"Stiff as a stone, but my arm is useful once again," Harry grimaced. "How are things going?"
"Just as we planned," Hermione answered. "But we are in the easy part; we have yet to think about how we are gonna get the rare ingredients and something from the Slytherin second years."
"About that... what can you tell us?" Neville piped in, now looking at the redhead. "I mean, they are your housemates, so I think you should make the calls here."
"Well, things are a bit..., weird right now," Ron admitted. "The thing is only Crabbe and Goyle hang around with Malfoy; Parkinson had some argument with him the other day, and Bulstrode follows her everywhere, so... Well, there is Nott, but we aren't messing with that guy, trust me about that."
"Why?" Harry asked. "From what I've seen, he is very calm and collected, isn't he?"
"Well, most of the time, you can say that; but, the guy has some..., problems, if you know what I mean; he's totally mental, and when he snaps, you don't want to be around under any circumstances."
"Really? Is he that crazy?" Hermione asked, looking a bit freaked out.
"Trust me, words wouldn't describe it accurately; he is a crazy bastard."
"His father was one of You-Know-Who's most loyal subordinates," Neville practically muttered. "My grandma told me to be very wary of him before coming to Hogwarts for the first year."
"So, summing everything up, only two of us can impersonate Crabbe and Goyle, right?" Harry ended the conversation.
"I think it should be you and Neville," Ron proposed.
"Why?" The chubbier boy asked, his usual nervousness showing once again. "I mean, you and Harry are way more prepared for this task... I might ruin everything with some stupid mistake..."
"Come on, drop that attitude man," Ron sighed, a bit exasperated. "You were with us the past year, back when the whole Stone debacle, and you acted like a bloody badass; don't get scared of some silly infiltration now. Besides, I think you two should be the ones because I can help you from the inside if something goes wrong."
"He's got a point," Hermione mumbled, still removing the cauldron.
"Well, then everything is settled," Harry stated. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. Wood wants to talk about the last game; I swear that man is possessed by the spirit of Quidditch..."
After that, the three of them talked about more trivial things for a while, but Ron ended up going back to his common room after thirty minutes. Shit, I need to pee so hard, there was no way I was doing it in that bloody bathroom; not with Moaning Myrtle roaming the pipes... That last thought made him shiver, but the boy ignored it and made his way to the dungeon's bathroom.
Just when he was about to get in, a voice coming from inside of it stopped him; it was Malfoy's
"Who the fuck does that half-troll of Flint thinks he is?" The blond boy practically spat. "To think he would dare to shout at me in front of everyone... It wasn't even my fault! It was a bloody storm! How am I supposed to locate the snitch when it is right above my head! And Pansy... that harlot is still badmouthing me, I'm sure of it..."
There was a pause, and the familiar sound of a fist hitting the wall. "Come on, Draco, who the hell are those people to look down upon you?" He kept rambling. "This is your entire fault... you did many stupid things in the past, and that made them think they could step on you... I'm gonna prove them wrong... Potter, Weasley, Flint, Parkinson... they will all soon regret the way they treated me!"
As soon as the redhead heard the footsteps, he ran to hide behind the armour which was closer to him; he made it in time to see the blonde boy coming out from the bathroom; his face red and trembling with anger. Damn, he sure is going through a phase right now; but life always treats you as you treated others, bastard! Ron was pretty happy to see Malfoy struggling, but there was something unnerving him. I wasn't expecting him to admit all his mistakes, though; many of the good things which have happened to me within the House were thanks to his actions... if he starts to act wisely and earns the favour of the older students... Come on, knock it off, you stupid, since when is a Weasley scared of a Malfoy?
When the blond boy was nowhere to be seen, Ron got out of his hiding spot with a relieved sigh; but it soon came to an end, because a voice from behind startled him to a point in which he almost jumped. "Well, well, what do we have here?"
The redhead turned around instantly, just to find no other than Pansy Parkinson, whose smirk was about to break free from her face. "Were you listening to poor Draco's rambling?" She pouted. "Didn't take you for one to pity him, but I guess I didn't know you at all, right?"
"I don't pity him, and I will never do," Ron grunted back. "But you were right on that last part; you don't know me."
"Isn't that awful? If it wasn't for the decisions Draco took, back during the first year, we might have stuck all together, and you could have been the new addition to our group."
"You know that is bullshit, that group was doomed to break from the very beginning."
"I see, so Daphne and Blaise told you some stories about us, eh?"
"What if they did?"
"Jeez, you should chill, I'm not your enemy or something like that," Pansy softly smiled at him.
"Really? Merlin, who would have thought you liked me so much?" Ron sneered. "The few times we've interacted were when you were laughing at me because of something Malfoy said."
"Oh, come on, that wasn't me; well, it was, but you know what I mean, right?"
"How the bloody hell would I know? You ain't making any sense!"
"Didn't Daphne teach you a few things about how to lie and act?" She asked, sounding truly surprised. "I needed to fell on good graces with Malfoy, so I tagged along like an obedient puppy; but he managed to irk me to a point in which I couldn't stand him anymore; also, it isn't as if he was still of use to me; that stupid git managed to threw away all the power and prestige his name carries... Honestly, what a disgrace..."
Who the hell is this person, and why does she look exactly like Pansy Parkinson? This was something completely new for the redhead; Parkinson was supposed to have no attitude at all, his whole character was based on following Malfoy around; but this girl who was in front of him was the opposite of that. She sounded very confident of herself, but that wasn't the worst; Parkinson was bloody terrifying; from the way she talked, it seemed as if she was perfectly able to change her personality to fit with some person or another.
This girl had practically perfected Daphne's social skills to a point which freaked him out.
"Well, whatever, I see you don't want to be friends with me; pity," Parkinson sighed. "You are a very interesting person, Weasley; just like Nott said. It is a shame your family is so poor and docile, though. These days I'm spending most of my time with the third years, but they are a quite pathetic class; if you ever feel kind enough to invite me to your group... who knows? Maybe I could be of help..."
"I don't make the calls here," Ron grunted back. "No one likes you, Parkinson; so you better forget about that possibility, there is no way for you to ruin the group we have."
"You don't make the calls, really?" She raised a brow. "It certainly doesn't looks like that from the outside; it shouldn't be that way, but Greengrass really follows you like a scared puppy when she should be the leader; I'm not even talking about Blaise, who never really cared about anything, or Davies, but I don't think I need to elaborate on her... You proved to everyone that you are talented and ambitious, Ronald Weasley; if you ever wake up and feel the need to become more powerful, you know where I am... I can teach you loads of things about how to become a true lord."
That being said, the smug girl made her way to the common room; leaving behind a speechless redhead. "What the hell was this conversation," he muttered. "Each day I spend here, I'm more convinced of Slytherin being a madhouse; by Merlin's sacred beard..."
Daphne Greengrass POV
Wednesday 12th November, 1992 (Slytherin's dormitories, Hogwarts) – Before dinner
It shouldn't have surprised her, but it still did.
It had to come one day or another; there was no way for her father to not ask questions with everything which was happening at Hogwarts right now. What she wasn't expecting was for him to send his personal and trustworthy elf.
Genyu appeared in the middle of her room, when she was all alone. "Mistress Daphne," the elf greeted her, at the same time as he bowed. "I think you already know why I am here, but in the case you don't, let me resume it; your Lord father wants to know more about the situation in the school; especially regarding the Chamber of Secrets. Apart from that, he wants you to know how disappointed he is since you didn't write home to inform him about the events which took place during Halloween night."
"Of course he is," Daphne sighed, massaging her temples to relieve some stress. "Tell me something first, Genyu; how does he know about everything with so much detail?"
"That isn't the reason why I am here, my Lady."
"Did he make you swear not to talk about it?"
"No."
"Then, you know what to do."
"Young Mistress is truly her father's daughter," Genyu sighed. "As you know, Lord Thomas has many ears and eyes everywhere, both in the Ministry and the Board of Governors. The first attack, the one on the cat, wasn't reported until the second one happened; which only fuelled his worry about everything. Besides that, information came from another source; it turns out Lord Lucius Malfoy is extremely happy with the situation here, and is using all his power and influence to turn these events against Headmaster Dumbledore."
"Okay, but what does everything have to do with me?"
"Your Lord father is worried about you; especially since there are some legends which talk about some kind of monster."
"I'm not a little girl anymore! Besides, why should he be worried? I'm one of the few students here whose blood is pure and noble enough to be considered nobility; besides, the monster it's supposed to purge the school from the unworthy, and I clearly don't belong to that group."
"I beg to differ, my Lady!" Genyu almost exclaimed. "You were born on the first of February in 1980, and that means you are still twelve years old; and that makes you a little girl in my books! In regards to your second point; yes, what you just said it's true! But, your Lord father thinks you recent..., allegiances with a certain boy from a not very noble family could put you in danger; he told Genyu to warn you about how some people rarely distinguish between a mudblood and a blood-traitor!"
Oh, come on! Here we go once again! To say his father was disappointed with her when Daphne told him about Ron was to put it short. Sure, her parents greatly disliked the Great House of Malfoy; but appearances were very important, and the heiress of the Great House of Greengrass sharing a table with a Weasley was something that couldn't be allowed. It didn't matter how many times Ron proved to everyone how talented and dedicated he was as a wizard, to Thomas Greengrass, that wasn't enough.
"I expect better from you, Daphne," her father said, just after coming back home after the first year, almost looking down at his daughter. "I don't like any of the pureblood families of this country, but that is not a problem for us, the Great House of Greengrass. There are many Great Houses in other countries, but they won't treat us with respect if they find out you were outclassed by the sixth son of Arthur Weasley."
Her father had always been very strict with Daphne and Astoria, her little sister; especially when other families were around. The girl knew he was very bad at expressing his feelings, and that was his way of telling her to be ready for this tough world; because he wanted the best for her. But, he was a man who knew great things only happen to those who work hard enough to get them; and just like he was raised to be, Thomas Greengrass did the same with his daughters.
Despite that, if there was something that really angered her was the way he looked down at Ron; it was true the redhead was a very emotional person, and that often made him to chose the worst decision possible; hell, he had even dragged her to a very dangerous situation because he didn't think twice before using her to collect some information. It wasn't totally his fault, of course; after all, the one to have the final call was her, and it was Daphne who decided to tag along with the Gryffindors that night.
But, how could she ignore everything when she knew how important the Stone was? Daphne would have liked to say she did it because it was the right thing; but that wasn't the reason. It was her perfect chance to defy his father and everyone who wanted her to be the perfect heiress. "Daphne, good Lady's like you have to be elegant and obedient,"her grandfather, Gustav Larsson, once told her.
Well, screw him and his antiquated bullshit; she wanted to be like her mother; like the protagonist of the fantasy novels she loved to read; and that had only been possible thanks to Ronald Weasley.
In her whole life, the only other person outside of her own family who had allowed Daphne to be herself was Alexander Shawn, and the girl had already defended the boy to the death when others were bad-mouthing him; and she would do the same with Ron; because there were more important things in this life than power and prestige.
"No matter where you are; no matter who you have in front; don't listen to them if they want to change the way you are, my love," her mother said to her in the past, to encourage Daphne after a very bad day. "Being the heiress of a Great House is a great burden, but it is also a great luck; you need to work hard because many people will depend on you one day, but don't ever sacrifice the way you are because of your duty."
"Mistress, are you okay?" Genyu asked, quite worried, as he snapped his fingers in front of her. "Does the lady want for Genyu to bring her something sweet? Or perhaps some cold water?"
"Don't worry," Daphne smiled at the extrovert elf. "I was just thinking about something from today's classes."
"Oh, I see; then, is there something you want Genyu to tell your Lord father?"
"Tell him everything is okay; it is true the school is very shaken after the second attack, but the Professors want us to act as if nothing was happening at all. They are very sure about being able to revert the petrifactions thanks to the Mandrakes, as soon as they are grown, of course."
"If those are your orders, Genyu will deliver; like he always does!" The elf brightly smiled at her. "But please, next time something happens, write a letter home; your parents and little Astoria are very worried about you! And so are Genyu and the others!"
Sometimes it was really hard to feel pissed with the elves; at least, those who served her family had always been incredibly kind and lively; some of them, like Genyu, even had developed their own personality, and that was a very rare thing for their kind.
People could say what they wanted about how cold Thomas Greengrass was, but the man really understood how to make his subordinates work at their best capacities; if giving them liberties and kindness was the only thing needed for the elves to work much better and efficiently, he would do it with no hesitation; even if they were magical creatures of the lowest level like the elves were.
"I will," Daphne answered, just before the elf disappeared with a last smile.
So father is also worried about the Chamber of Secrets, eh? Is there anyone in this world who doesn't think about it every single second of the day? Not counting studying and doing homework, the only thing in Daphne's mind right now was to keep an eye on Ron and his friends from Gryffindor; because it was so obvious they felt the need to do something about every single and existing mess which happened to take place near them. "Whatever, I don't even want to go to dinner today," the blonde muttered, as she lay on her bed. "I'm just gonna rest my eyes for a bit; and then, I'll finish the Transfiguration essay..."
When the girl opened her eyes, the room was totally in the darkness, and Tracy was nudging her shoulder. "Daphne, are you okay?" She asked. "You missed dinner."
"Oh crap," Daphne cursed, as she tried to sit up. "Is it really so late?"
"Kind off, Parkinson and Bulstrode are already on their beds, but we just finished playing some cards, so me and the boys decided it was time to sleep."
Nice one, Daphne, really nice one. "Why am I so stupid?" The blonde cursed. "Great, now I've missed dinner and I still have to write the essay..."
"What, are you barmy? You can't be serious about doing it right now."
"Oh, trust me I am. If I don't do it tonight, then I'll have to do it in the weekend, and there is no way I'm losing my free day because of some stupid homework..."
In the end, Daphne got out of the room and made her way towards the common room; it was almost empty, but there still were some students here and there, especially from sixth and seventh years. "I am the only kid here," she cursed, in a low voice, as her quill danced across the parchment. "My hand already hurts and I still need to write a hundred more lines or so..."
As it always happened when she focused on something, nothing but that thing seemed to exist; not even time seemed to pass for her. That maybe was the reason why she didn't see a certain sixth year prefect pointing his wand at her; until the noise of a little firework startled her, that's it. It was little and rather pathetic, but it made her jump from the couch; her heartbeat as fast as a golden Snitch. "What the hell?" Daphne let out, still trying to regain her breath.
"Never seen a second year as focused on an essay as you were," Daniel Williams whistled. "It isn't the first time I see you around this late; having problems so early with your education?"
"What is wrong with you?" Daphne barked at him. "Is there something more than air up there in your head?"
"Jeez, I knew you didn't like me, but come on, do you really have to be so mean?"
Maybe the boy was right, but since he was practically smirking at her, the only thing those words did was to infuriate her even more. "Are you serious?" She asked. "That is the only thing you can say after scaring me like that out of nowhere? And just for your interest; I don't have any problems at classes; in fact, I finished the first year as the fifth best student."
"Oh damn, that is quite impressive; you are almost as awesome as me, shame I've always been the second best of my promotion, though; but don't give up, hard work always wins when the talented people don't work enough."
Nice one, Daphne! You just handed that moron a perfect chance to humiliate you! Since the first time she met the cocky prefect, she had disliked him; it was something about the way he walked around, as if he owned the whole place; but that disliking reached new levels when he practically ordered her to leave her seat so he could speak with Ron in private; a poor peasant like him ordered her, the heiress of the Great House of Greengrass, to sod off!
"Okay, I'm sorry about scaring you," Williams finally apologised, and much to the girl's surprise, it sounded completely honest. "You looked so focused on writing that I couldn't stop my wand; I wanted to test how focused you were, and I'm pretty surprised with the result."
"I accept your apology," she said, still looking at him with a cold look. "But, why the heck would you do that! It just doesn't make any sense!"
"It doesn't make any sense for you, I'd say," he corrected her. "In my mind it was a pretty funny thing to do, so it made all the sense in the world; not everyone has to act and think like you do, princess... Okay, don't look at me like you want to kill me, jeez; that was the last joke, I promise."
He's still mocking me as he pleases! She tried to breathe and calm herself; but that had never been one of her strong points. "Aren't you a bit too lively?" She wondered, her voice coming out very softly, and yet, with a dark tone behind it. "I thought you would be more worried... you know, with all the things that are happening in the castle right now..."
The prefect finally stopped smiling, but now, he was looking at her with a raised brow, the mirth in his eyes totally gone. "So you really are ready to go that far, eh?" Williams commented, sounding disappointed. "I knew you have a gigantic ego, but didn't think you would come with that. Whatever, enjoy the night in solitude; I just wanted to get to know you a bit more, since you are a close friend of Ronald and you seemed to dislike me. But I already know enough to see there is nothing worth in that head of yours; good night, princess."
As the prefect walked away, Daphne's first thought was to throw her quill at him; but she didn't do it; ladies weren't supposed to lose their calm so easily, just like she had just done during the conversation. Honestly, how dare that peasant to look down at me with that self-rightness! But it was the last thought that made her think about something; she didn't know why, but the word peasant didn't sound so good anymore.
Maybe it was because of Williams' disappointed look; or maybe, because some faces appeared when the blonde pronounced it on her mind; Ron, Tracey, and even Granger; and the three of them were sending her sad looks. Why do all your faces appear out of nowhere? I don't look down on you three anymore! That was a thing of the past; or so she thought. Why are you thinking so much about some stupid thing like this? Come on; wake the hell up, Daphne... But... I really implied to him that I wouldn't care if he was attacked by the Heir. With an exasperated sigh, the girl dropped her head on the wooden table; it hurt a bit, but she didn't care.
What the hell is wrong with me? You have way more important things to worry about... like what would father think of his daughter if she were to drop from the top five... that is why you came here to finish the essay. Shaking her head, she got up and made her way towards her bedroom. What a crap of a day... I knew it was going to be bad since the moment I spilled some juice on my skirt during breakfast...
She would worry about her friends and homework tomorrow; now, the only thing on her head was a nice and warm bed.
It took them more than a week to strike, but they did it on Thursday; at the double period of potions that Slytherin and Gryffindor shared. The class was running as smoothly as always; until Granger walked near her cauldron, that's it. "You should keep an eye on Goyle's cauldron," she whispered, as she passed by.
"What the hell was that?" Blaise asked the blonde, raising a brow at her.
"That is why I'm wondering right now..."
Daphne eyed Ron, who, as always, shared table with Tracey; the redhead was acting pretty normal, but as it always happened with him, there were little details which gave him away when acting or lying; this time, it was the subtle looks he was sending and the two gorilla's table. What is going on? Why should I keep an eye on the-. Out of nowhere, Goyle's potion exploded, interrupting her mental rambling.
"Get down here!" Blaise exclaimed, as he pushed her under the table; the boy's quick reaction definitely saved her from being showered by the Swelling Solution.
But others weren't as lucky as her.
Malfoy's nose began to swell like a balloon, while his two goons tried to cover their eyes, which were getting bigger and bigger at an alarming speed. "Silence!" Professor Snape roared. "Everyone stay calm and silent! Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draught."
"What was that?" Blaise muttered by her side, still covering under the table.
"That was the reason why Granger told me that," Daphne whispered, coming to a realization. "But, if she knew it was going to happen..."
"It was because they probably made it happen," Blaise concluded, with a sour voice.
But why would she do that? Then, the blond girl observed how Ron helped Tracey to get out of their cover. So he also knew it... this gotta be their new plan... but what is their objective with this? There weren't many things the Gryffindors could win from making Goyle's potion to explode; but the reason after it must have been important, because Potter and Longbottom were sweating a lot. It was after looking everywhere that Daphne realized something. "Granger isn't here," she stated.
"What?"
The bushy-haired girl was nowhere to be seen, and that was something very hard to accomplish; the classroom for the second years wasn't very big, after all. Once he was done delivering the antidote, Professor Snape made his way towards Goyle's cauldron to inspect it. "If I ever find who threw this," he whispered, as he showed them some kind of remains; despite that, the whole class heard him loud and clear.
"Those damned Gryffindors... it had to be one of them," Pansy muttered very angrily, as she took a seat on her chair; her lips still way bigger than usual.
"Granger is back," Blaise let her know. "She came from Snape's private wardrobe."
Now, that was something she could work with. The reason after it still was unknown, but the blonde now knew they needed some rare ingredients to make some potions; and it definitely had to be related to the Chamber of Secrets, because otherwise, there was no way for them to risk their necks like that; especially Granger. It seems you are going to answer some questions today, Ron...
Ronald Weasley POV
Since when did interrogating Ron Weasley become a tradition of our group? The redhead thought, as his friends surrounded him, back in the warmness of the common room. "You knew about everything, didn't you?" Blaise asked him.
"Was it that obvious?"
"I mean, you literally pushed me under the table before the cauldron exploded," Tracey said. "So, yeah, you could say it was a bit evident; I just hope Snape didn't see that, because you would be in real trouble there."
"What was the point of that?" Daphne questioned. "You really, really need to be desperate to steal something from Snape's private supplies."
"How the hell do you know about that?"
"Granger disappeared in the middle of the commotion," Blaise stated. "Among all the students, it was Granger the one to risk her neck; so I think being desperate is a bad way to put it."
"Woah, you guys really caught us," Ron sighed. "Well, how can I explain this..."
"It has to be related to the Chamber of Secrets, right?" Blaise interrupted him. "If so, don't bother with explanations; I don't really care about it. Honestly, I can't understand the need to get your nose into every single mess; much less in some dangerous shit like this one is."
"That is precisely the reason!" Ron almost exclaimed. "People are getting petrified, Blaise! There are hundreds of muggle-born students in this school; hell, one of my best friends is one of them! I get that nobody knows what is really going on here, but the Professors are already working on it as best as they can; if we can help them somehow, I'm diving into the monster's nest if needed."
"You are totally barmy."
"I think what you are doing is very brave and noble," Tracey piped in, sending a sour look at the other boy. "If I can help somehow... well, you just tell me about it, okay?"
Finally someone who doesn't think just about themselves! Blaise was a nice guy when you get to know him; but much to the redhead's desperation, the boy seemed completely unable to be enthusiastic about anything in this world; much less worrying about other people's wellbeing. The only thing he wanted was to live an easy and comfortable life; and that was totally fine; but what was not okay was to stand aside, and doing nothing, when hundreds of lives were in danger.
"That doesn't surprise me; it was a given you were going to do something about the Chamber," Daphne muttered. "And it is also evident whatever you four are planning, it has to do something with a potion; but why, and which potion do you need, is the information I am missing."
What am I supposed to do right now? Last year, he dragged Daphne with him to a very dangerous situation; even if the blonde had the last word on whether to help him or not. But this whole thing with the Chamber and the Heir seemed to be even more dangerous than the Stone. I mean, we could really use their help... more brains working on it is always better... Tracey already looked as if she was ready to help; and Daphne had already surprised him last year; but Blaise... there was no way for him to help them.
Then, after some seconds of thinking, the redhead came up with a decision. He needed to solve this whole mystery of the Chamber and the Heir, and people like Blaise and Daphne, who were more intelligent than him, would be of great help. I need to convince them somehow… but I can't really make them do whatever I want just because I say so… shite, why is life so complicated?
This wasn't like the beginning of first year; Ron knew most of the Slytherins weren't little Death Eaters in disguise, waiting for their call to impose their fucked up beliefs on others; but if only his two pureblood friends were a bit braver to do something for others once in while… he would be so happy; just like he was when Daphne helped them with the Stone last year; even after knowing He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Names could be the one they were going to face.
That was the reason why he decided to give them a chance.
"Listen you all," Ron started. "We have a plan, and it is the craziest shit you'd ever heard; but I can't tell you anything about it unless you are in the same boat as us. I don't want to put any of you in danger; if you want to stop the Heir of Slytherin before it is too late, you are very welcome; trust me, we need all the help we can get."
"Well, count me out," Blaise said. "I'm not barmy enough to risk my neck like that for people whom I will never know."
Even if that was the answer Ron was waiting to hear, it still hurt to see how little the black boy cared about others.
Just after saying that, Blaise walked away without even looking back. "I'm... I'm sorry, but I can't tag along this time," Daphne sighed. "This whole mess with the Chamber's monster and the Heir... it scares me; even if I'm not supposed to ever be one of its targets. I just... I'm sorry."
"If you are scared, imagine those muggle-borns, Daphne," Ron told her.
"I know; but I can't help you this time..."
"You don't want to, you mean."
"You know what?" Daphne said, raising her voice a little. "You are right; I don't want to risk my neck for others who probably wouldn't do the same for me; yeah, that's it. You can look at me the way you just looked at Blaise, but I don't care." It had been time since they last had a serious row like that, but after letting a bit of anger out, the blonde girl seemed to be more cooled off. "I'm sorry for snapping like that, but don't look at me like I'm the worst person on this planet, please; not everyone was born as brave as you and your friends are. I... just be careful, okay?"
Agh, how can they be so self-preserving? People's lives are in danger here! Daphne also walked away from them, and as the redhead observed her back, another thought came to his mind. I kinda snapped at her out of nowhere... she looks a bit sad now... whatever, at least now I won't put them under unnecessary danger; it's all on us four this time.
"I think you were a bit too harsh, you know?" Tracey told him, with an accusatory look. "Blaise can be a jerk sometimes, at your same level I would say; but Daphne seemed to be really thinking about what to do; and you just snapped at her very cruelly."
"Bloody hell, I know," Ron sighed. "It is just... I'm very stressed about everything; and after seeing how Blaise didn't even think about helping others..., it just boiled my blood so much... I just can't understand how anyone can be so impassable and okay with doing nothing, just because they know they are safe."
"People are raised in different ways, and they live experiences that reinforce those beliefs," Tracey shrugged it off. "I've known purebloods since I was a toddler, and it was long ago since I last tried to understand why they think different from me."
"So, you are tagging along, aren't you?"
"Isn't it a bit evident? I think it's pretty horrible that people are still being hunted just because of the purity of their blood; it's just... I don't think there are words to describe it. If I can do anything to help the Professors... well, count me in."
"Thank you."
"Nah, don't really need to say it. By the way, from where do we start? And what are you planning to do with that potion you four are brewing."
"Well, it may sound a bit crazy, but we are trying to locate the Heir; and about the potion... why don't you come with me instead? I'll show you."
"Okay; lead the way; I've always loved surprises."
Master Isaac POV
Sunday 16th November, 1992 (Tower of Merlin, Greece) – Middle of the afternoon
If there was something Isaac hated more than unexpected problems, it was when they included unexpected guests with them; especially if those persons were of the likes of Cynthia Mahomes, a special agent from the ICW, no less.
"This place is just as breathtaking as the reports said," the ex-Auror whistled. She was a tall woman in her late thirties, or even early forties, with long, brown hair; which was styled in a ponytail right now. She had sharp features, with some little scars around her chin and forehead, probably marks of her past as an Auror. Cynthia was part of the ICW, but the only sign of that was the organization's shield which was sewed on her azure-blue robes; which ended a bit past the ankles, in the form of a waving skirt.
"This place must be the Gardens of Morgan le Fey, am I right?" She went on, completely ignoring the Master's gaze.
Isaac would have loved to kick her out of his sacred Tower, but the Order of Merlin wasn't above the International Law; that was the reason why the First Master had allowed her to trespass the barrier; their organization didn't want any problems with the ICW.
"I'm glad you find it beautiful, Mrs Mahomes," Isaac said, trying to hide his anger and frustration as best as he could. "It has been a very long time since any official from any Government or Organization came here to visit us; mind sharing the purpose of this visit?"
"Yeah, of course I don't mind," Cynthia smiled. "In fact, it is mandatory for any official to announce their intentions when..., collaborating with other people."
"So, you came here to collaborate with us, right?"
"Yes, but don't worry about it, that is what the official documents say; bureaucratic paperwork and that kind of thing. I was never one to like formalities, though; still, I gotta do my job. I came here for some little incident which happened around the last week of May, at some remote forest in the country of Croatia... sounds familiar, Master Isaac?"
"I've heard about it, but I don't know why it should have anything to do with the Order of Merlin," Isaac perfectly lied, even though he was very unsettled thanks to what the official had just said. How can they know it was us? Maybe... could have Elend Shawn told them about it? No, that is impossible; if that had happened, the man would be in provisional custody. The old Master had heard tales about Cynthia Mahomes; the brilliant special agent from the ICW; the woman with a perfect record in solving the most difficult cases which anyone before her could even hope to solve.
"Listen, let's cut the crap here, okay?" She said, no longer smiling. "I don't know whether the Order of Merlin had something to do with it or not; but I don't really care. It took me many months, but thanks to many reliable sources, I know one of the main responsible of that tragedy was Jin the Stranger; and surprise, surprise... that man hasn't worked for anyone but you in the last fifty years."
"Honestly, given the man's reputation, I think you really didn't have anything to do with it," the woman continued. "But the responsible for a dog's actions is the owner, First Master; if you can't control a rabid dog, it needs to be put down immediately; and my role as an agent for the ICW, it to find those rabid dogs before they can hurt more people; or even worse, before they can break the Statute of Secrecy. Because I assure you, the muggles weren't very happy about what happened in their country."
So she isn't onto us... or that is what she said; I must not believe any word from this woman; she is dangerous. The fact she had been able to connect all the little threads which linked Jin to the incident was something very worrying; that meant there was a snitch among them. "How did you come out with that conclusion, Mrs Mahomes?" Isaac asked.
"So, you aren't even going to answer my accusations, eh? There are a lot of people working for the Five Masters of the Order, Isaac; too many people means too many stories... They love to talk, and I love listening to them. But let's slow down a bit; I didn't come here to declare your organization as the new enemies of the ICW."
"Then, why did you come?"
"I know the Order of Merlin and the different Ministries from all over the world have ignored each other for centuries; unless they needed to cooperate to obtain something, of course. But things are way different in the present, Master Isaac; the ICW was born to regulate the order and peace in the Wizarding World. We don't care about your doings, just as we don't act against others unless they go too far; I know you and the rest of the Masters are incredibly gifted individuals, but please, don't forget there are rules we all are bound to follow."
"Each action has its consequences," Isaac sighed.
"That is exactly what I meant," Mahomes nodded, way more relaxed now, after seeing no signs of anger on the Master's face. "Please, just control your men; this visit was merely a warning; the last one. Both the ICW and the Order of Merlin are powerful organisations, that is why a conflict between them would not benefit anyone; but if that scenario were to happen, just remember we have the International Law backing us."
With a last nod as sign of respect, the woman left the place, accompanied by two of Isaac's butlers. She is totally right; this happened because we couldn't do a proper job in Croatia, and now we have to face the consequences. It had been a very close call, but the name of the Order had saved them; if any other organization or people would have been the ones to cause the incident of Croatia, the ICW would have come at them with all their power; but they were very intelligent people, and they knew a fight with the Order of Merlin would cause them far too many problems.
Despite that, it was Isaac the one feeling more relieved; yes, they were very powerful and dangerous, especially he and Xaladir; but if the Order were to fight against the ICW, they would cease to exist; and that was something the last descendant of Merlin would never allow to happen. He was going to be remembered as a greater wizard than his ancestor, not as the First Master who couldn't protect the Order.
"Do you want me to 'deal' with her?" Hao, his female High Inquisitor, asked.
"Don't even think about it."
"Okay; I was just joking, though."
That was only a half truth; an Inquisitor would never disobey their Master's order, but they had the freedom to carry out their duty with their own methods and skills; and some times, the dragon-masked woman had a bit of trouble with restraining herself when the possibility of a good battle was on the table.
After the tense meeting with the agent from the ICW, the only thing Isaac wanted to do right now was to relax in his balcony, atop of the First Tower, and observe the breathtaking views it had; but today didn't seem to be his day, as the presence of his other High Inquisitor, the Unicorn, indicated him. "Master, we've received news from Aura the Fourth," the rough voice of a man informed him. "She wrote a letter to us; she's returning to the Tower today."
"What is the meaning of that?" Isaac asked, pretty surprised; the main objective of the Fourth Master was to be the recruiter for the Order; and Aura in particular took her duty very seriously; in fact, the only times she returned to their Tower was for their annual meeting, or when Isaac needed her to carry out a very special task.
"Seems like she has found the perfect candidate for the Fifth Master vacant," Unicorn commented. "That is all I know; but I really hope whoever the new candidate is, to not be a traitor like the last one was..."
That was great news.
Even though Isaac has been postponing the naming of a new Master, it was a crime for him to allow the Order to lack one Master for so much time; and that had to end sooner than later. Jin would probably curse his name a thousand of times, but Isaac didn't really care about him; such a common man would never understand greatness and the duties of a man like the First Master.
The mercenary's plan had been good, but it hadn't worked out; and if Shana had ignored her Inquisitors until now, the probabilities of the young woman contacting them to ask for help were close to none.
"Is she planning to come back tonight?"
"That is what she let us know."
"Very nice; I will be waiting in my Tower; tell her to come to me as soon as she arrives with the candidate," Isaac told his Inquisitors. "I don't want to be disturbed unless anything extraordinarily important happens; deal with everything in my absence, okay?"
"As you command, Master!" They both answered.
It truly was a long walk back to the First Tower from the Gardens, but there were too many thoughts on the Master's mind to care about it right now.
Since the organization was created, many centuries in the past, the Fifth Master's spot had always been the hardest to honour; the First was for the descendant of the great Merlin, and the Fifth was for a wizard or witch whose talents were to be unique. That only requisite was a very tough one by itself, and far too many times during history, the leader of the Order had to sully the spot with unworthy people; hell, even Isaac did it with those fools of Rhoblas and Christine.
But things took a turn for the better when Aura found Shana during one of her travels.
The red-haired witch came into the Order as a little and frightened girl; one who had problems with her personality, as if her mind was a host of two completely different persons. But when her demeanour changed, that was the moment when her unique talents were displayed; and they left Isaac completely mesmerised.
Even at the early age of twelve, Shana had already been a master in the field of illusions; almost as if she could distort reality itself. She hadn't seemed to be aware of it, nor she knew how to control them; but when her personality changed, and Valkyrie took control of the body, that unique magic was flawless.
With time and training, the little girl turned into a fine, young woman; just as her magic became an art. Shana's magic had always been more refined when creating human's illusions, but in the present, much to Isaac's disgust, she was able to fool many wizards when changing the terrain.
Many wizards, including the likes of Isaac and Jin, could excel in the art of creating copies of themselves, or even complex spectres of magic; but they didn't feel like the illusions that brat created, not even close. Her art was so pure and unique...
When she created copies of herself, even the First Master couldn't distinguish which was the real one... when she created a copy of a certain terrain, Shana managed to imitate the way nature's magic felt...
It is such a shame she betrayed us, Isaac thought, now realizing he already was at his balcony; his eyes set on the azure and endless sea. His peace didn't last long, though; just after five minutes of silence, a knock on the door woke him up. "Come in," he announced, without turning back.
Two presences came into the room; one was a very familiar one, Aura the Fourth had finally returned; but the other one... it felt way too normal to be the so talked candidate for the Fifth spot, but it had something strange.
When the old man turned around to see the candidate's face, he found a young woman, maybe a few years older than Shana, but her hair was of a platinum shade instead of fiery-red. Her robes were quite simple, but they seemed to be made just for her; she wore a simple tunic of a light pink which ended at her knees, with some black trousers underneath them. Those clothes emphasised her very pale skin; but even that was nothing when compared to the woman's eyes, which were of a bright purple that could even shine in total darkness.
Still, there was something weird about them; as if those eyes were staring at the infinity, instead of the face that was in front of them.
"It has been almost a whole year, Isaac," Aura greeted, her voice as calm as ever.
"It is always a pleasure to have you back, my old friend."
"As my letter said, I found a perfect candidate to be Shana's replacement."
"I see," the First Master muttered, even though he couldn't find anything extraordinary about the young woman; at least at first sight. "What is your name? Do you know who I am?"
The short woman didn't answer; she just stood there, a kind smile on her face, and eyes still gazing at the nothing.
"Her name is Adigele, but she hates it," Aura answered in her name. "She told me to call her Adigé; and she is both blind and mute, but she understands us perfectly."
That was a surprise, indeed; it also explained why those eyes had been lost since she came into the room. But that wasn't important for Isaac. "That is of no importance for me, Aura; why did you think she is the perfect candidate? Why is she so special to be compared with Shana?"
"You are relying on your sight too much, Isaac; do not let your mind blind you."
Aura was one of the very few people who could reprimand him at all, that was the reason why the First Master closed his eyes, and studied Adigele with his magic.
It was so faint, that he almost missed it, but there was a very thin layer of magic covering his whole chamber; almost resembling mist. "If there is something all living beings share, that is their desire to survive," Aura started to explain. "Both creatures and humans alike evolve and adapt in order to live under extreme conditions; and magic is just another resource that can be used to survive."
"You can see it, don't you?" The Fourth Master went on. "Since the moment Adigele first stepped into this chamber, her magic instantly covered the place; she might not have sight, but she is able to feel the environment thanks to her incredible magical senses; an aura so thin and almost untraceable... perfect for control and sensitivity."
She was totally right; such a kind of magical aura was something Isaac would have never imagine to be possible; the young woman wouldn't be able to tell apart a table from a bed, but she probably knew there was some inanimate object there; or maybe she could distinguish them thanks to her mist-like aura feeling the different forms and reliefs...
And then, Isaac felt it; there was..., something coming out from Adigele. At first, he thought she was an Emitter; the allomancers who could use metal to influence others' emotions. But this wasn't like that; no, the young woman was literally projecting her emotions towards him, not trying to ignite or calm his.
The first seconds, the First Master had trouble recognizing whatever she was trying to communicate, but after a nod of her head, her emotions became much more clearer; Adigele was feeling grateful for the opportunity, and she was happy because her talents had been recognised by them. "A mist-like aura which acts as a pair of eyes; the skill to project emotions as if they were words to communicate with others," Isaac muttered.
"You now understand why I think she is worthy of being the Fifth Master," Aura said. "This girl was able to develop such incredible skills to cope with her disabilities; and she is still so young... imagine what she would be able to do in a few years. Adigele might be the pinnacle of what the saying 'adapt to survive, or die,' means; at least, it we talk about magical skills."
It wasn't as eye-catching as Shana's illusions were, but it could even be more unique; at least Isaac had never seen something similar. The role of the Fifth Master in the Order of Merlin was very similar to the one of a trophy; it was the way for the Order to write in the history's books the names of incredibly talented wizards who had honed their skills to a point it was almost unbelievable; and Adigele was the perfect successor to those who came prior to her.
"I welcome her into the Order of Merlin," Isaac announced. "Adigele will be honoured with the official ceremony, during our yearly meeting. I want you to give her a tour to show her the whole Tower of Merlin; you shall also introduce the new Fifth Master to her two High Inquisitors, acting as an intermediate between them until the three of them can fully understand each other."
"If that is what you want me to do, I will do it," Aura nodded. "You have heard him, Adigele; it is time to meet two very special subordinates, who will act as your sworn swords and shields." As the two women left the big chamber, Isaac felt how Adigele's aura followed her as she walked away.
The First Master turned around and looked at the beautiful sunset.
The day certainly looked very bad after the ICW's agent visit, but he hadn't expected to finally name a Fifth Master on the same day, by any means. "We might know nothing about Herpo's tomb, and we have yet to deal with Shana and Elend Shawn; but the Order of Merlin is finally complete, as it should be," Isaac muttered, as his fingers calmly tapped on the balcony's handrail. "Future is certainly looking bright for me; the day in which I will discover one of the most seek secrets in the history of the Wizarding World will come, and the name of Isaac Merlinson shall be known by everyone..."
